


Entirely A Matter of Chance

by ashilrak



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 90 day fiance AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Lingerie, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8050105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashilrak/pseuds/ashilrak
Summary: Long-distance relationships have challenges that are sometimes difficult to overcome, but consider having only 90 days after first meeting your potential spouse to decide to marry. That's the situation facing Alexander Hamilton and George Washington. Using a visa that allows foreign fiancees of American citizens to travel to the U.S., Alexander experiences life in the States with the unknown George Washington for the first time. Emotional walls must be overcome -- not to mention the stigma of being thought of as a gold-digger after a green card -- but here's the elephant in the room: The couple must marry before the visa expires in 90 days, or else Alexander will have to immediately return to St. Croix. With the clock ticking, the couple will discover if their "happily ever after" is meant to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the quote "Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance" - Jane Austen
> 
> I was watching 90 Day Fiance, and decided that it'd make a great AU, so here we are. The summary is an edited version of the description of the show.
> 
> Yes, I know the St. Croix is a part of the U.S. Virgin Isles, and technically this AU doesn't make any sense based on that, but I don't really care.

Everyone said that your life could change in a moment. They were telling the truth. But, in most cases, it wasn’t a singular action that would tear everything around you into pieces, but rather one final event where everything that had happened prior seemed to fall into place and assure your destruction. 

For Alexander, these moment stretched far back in his life, perhaps even before he was born. His life started to tumble into shambles the moment his mother met his father. He was born a bastard, not that it meant that much these days, but it was a title he couldn’t quite seem to shake. His father abandoned them, and a hurricane hit, and his mother died, and then his cousin committed suicide. Each thing on its own could perhaps be overcome, but together, it was too much to bear.

His only solace had been in the Stevens family, but even they weren’t willing to put up with him for long. There were too many rumors surrounding them. His mother hadn’t been very respected while she had been alive, and several people believed that Alexander was actually a Stevens rather than a Hamilton. They let him into their home, and that in itself was more than Alexander would have been willing to ask for. He knew his time was coming to a close though - could see it in the glances the family shared when he walked into a room. 

Rather than kicking him out and forcing him to fend for himself, they offered him a way out. Every where he looked he was surrounded by old memories, and they knew that. The Stevens’ had a friend, a George Washington, who was the type of man that was more than willing to help get someone back up on their feet if they were willing to work hard. Alexander had always been a hard worker, and that was what inspired them to ask Washington in the first place.

The Stevens’ handed him a plane ticket to some airport in Virginia, in the United States, and told him they had effectively arranged a marriage for him. They, along with their friend, had filled out the paperwork necessary for a fiance visa. Alexander was going to be leaving his home in less than a week, and then meet and live with a man he had to marry in 90 days.

He had to pack up everything he owned and wanted to bring with him in two suitcases and a carry on. Alexander expected it to be much more difficult than it was, but he supposed he had never had the largest wardrobe, and he had had to sell most of what was in the house when his mother died to repay her debts. 

His flight consisted of some of the most anxiety filled hours of his life. It wasn’t the longest flight, and it felt simultaneously too long and not long enough. He would land, go through customs, and then meet the man he’d be spending a significant amount of time with. Perhaps not forever, but the potential existed. 

Alexander had never talked with this George Washington. He had been given the opportunity, but didn’t quite realize it as at the time he had been involved in his writing. He regretted not taking it, as he had only an old picture and descriptions to go off of to find the man. He was in his mid-30s, and far from ugly. Alexander allowed himself to take comfort in the small things. He might be legally an adult, but that didn’t mean he wanted to have his husband be more than twice his age. 

There was a man standing at baggage claim holding a sign with his name on it, and Alexander’s first thought upon laying eyes on his future husband was that he was a tall nerd. There was something imposing about how he held himself, but the closer Alexander got, he saw that there was kindness visible in the lines around Washington’s eyes. 

George Washington could have been any kind of man, and Alexander would have been stuck with him. He was lucky though, in the time it took to introduce themselves and grab his bags, George had only proved himself to be kind and welcoming, though not entirely. There was something that seemed to be holding the man back from saying everything he wanted to.

Alexander couldn’t blame him, he was much the same. They were both judging the other on first impressions, and until that wall was torn away, any interaction would be awkward and without comfort. Washington carried both of Alexander’s bags, and led the way to a very nice black sedan in the parking lot.

Nothing about the situation was comfortable, but it was better than the scenarios Alexander had been picturing on the plane. Washington kept looking over at him like he didn’t know what to say or how the handle it, and that was fine. He could deal with a well-intentioned awkward man. The silence was close to unbearable, but Alexander powered through it. If he started talking, he wouldn’t stop, and he really didn’t want the man to hate him this early on.

The drive was a little over an hour long, and it was filled with the sound of breathing and the classic rock station at a low volume. There were several times where it looked as if Washington was going to say something, but instead ended up sighing. Alexander had no doubt that the conversation would happen over some sort of meal - that was the way these things usually seemed to happen.

They pulled up to a gorgeous property Alexander couldn’t call anything other than an estate, and was probably once a plantation of some sort. Alexander had thought he knew the type of person that lived in these kind of homes, but Washington welcoming a stranger into his life in the manner he was doing proved those assumptions wrong. Alexander did not enjoy being proven wrong, but in this case, he might make an exception. If that exception came back to bite him in the ass because Washington ended up being some sort of serial killer, that was his own fault, and he deserved whatever he got.

Washington was the perfect gentleman. He opened the car door for Alex, and insisted on carrying his bags into his home. The home was gorgeous, and Alexander had difficulty wrapping his mind around the idea that he’d be living there for however long Washington decided to keep him in his life. 

Not only was Washington a gentleman, but he was also a chef. Alexander’s bags were set down in the foyer, and then he was sat down on a tall stool looking over a countertop into the kitchen. It appeared that Washington was much more comfortable making conversation while his hands were busy. Alexander was much the same way, but he was limited to fiddling his thumbs.

Washington was moving around the kitchen, and doing whatever was necessary to prepare a meal, and he was talking to Alexander, “For whatever reason, the thing I have been most stressed over about this entire thing was what to make you for dinner. I asked my friend, Martha, and she told me that if I don’t know what to make you, I’m a terrible fiance. She’s under the impression that I met you while visiting the Stevens’ and it was love at first sight, by the way. I asked another friend of mine, and he told me that if I’m trying to be the annoyingly patriotic american that I am, burgers would be a good choice. So, I’m making burgers.”

Alexander didn’t love burgers, but he wasn’t going to turn down a home-cooked meal.

Washington’s hands were busy doing whatever they were doing with the ground meat, and his back was to Alexander, “I really hope you’re not a vegetarian. I didn’t think to ask, which looking back was actually a little terrible of me.”

He couldn’t help but be a little bit amused by the situation. After all, Washington didn’t seem like the type to ramble, and yet that was exactly what was happening right now. Alexander might even guess that Washington was nervous; he was keeping his eyes and hands busy with something that was not Alexander, and he kept going on and on about all these little details. It was almost cute.

“Martha, who I mentioned before, is going to want to meet you soon. I told her that we needed a bit of time to adjust to actually living one another, but I don’t imagine that’ll buy us much more time than a couple of weeks. We’re going to have to know each other by the time she gets it in her head to interrogate you. She already thinks you’re after me for my money and a green card, and she’ll see that you’re exactly my type and get it into her head that you’re just blinking your pretty little eyes at me to get your way.”

Alexander had many things he wanted to say, and it was taking every bit of restraint he had to not go on a rant. But he couldn’t stay completely silent, “I am with you for your money and a green card.”

Washington turned around at that, stared at him, and laughed before agreeing with him, “Huh, I suppose you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

Alexander was not given a response to that statement, but was instead once again greeted with Washington’s back. He was not one to deny himself the opportunity to peruse the sights around him, and Washington was certainly a sight. He was tall, and very, very fit. His shoulders filled out the dress shirt he was wearing just so. Alexander was satisfied with his view.

It was when Washington turned around and sat next to Alex that things got awkward. 

Thankfully, Washington hadn’t insisted on sitting at the dining table face-to-face. Pauses in conversation could be spent looking ahead into the empty kitchen rather than attempting to avoid eye-contact. 

The burger was really good, and Alexander was the slightest bit upset about it. He had been planning on being very upset about the entire situation, and it wasn’t that his anger had completely dissipated - that would be ridiculous - but rather that so far, he had almost nothing to complain about. Sure,Washington was technically doing him a huge favor, but no one wanted to be married off to some strange, albeit attractive, man.

The sound of chewing was interrupted by Washington. “So, uh, since we’ll be getting married sooner rather than later, I suppose we should get to know each other. Maybe not in-depth just yet - obviously we still need to build trust - but definitely enough that we can comfortably live together for the time being.”

“You start.”

Another short, silent stretch passed before Washington started to talk.

“Well, you know my name is George Washington. I’d like it if you’d call me George, if you’re comfortable with it, that is. I’m 35, and my best friend, Martha, always makes fun of me for my proclivity towards younger men. My parents both came from money, and that came down to me when they both passed away, so I’ll probably do my best to spoil you, if you’ll let me - I hope you do.”

Alexander finished chewing his burger.

“So not only do I have me a sugar daddy who can cook for a husband, but one that can run for president. I’d make a great first lady, don’t you think?”

Washington chuckled, before saying, “I’m sure you’d be great at whatever you put your mind towards, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?”

Washington looked down at the countertop before speaking up once again, “Sorry about that, I really am. These things tend to slip out. I’m assuming you prefer Alexander?”

He had a decision to make. Either he stick with the formality he had been planning with and insist on being referred to by him name until Washington forcibly broke down that wall, or he offer that sense of comfort and familiarity. The first option would work with his original plan of having a distant but pleasant relationship that would perhaps grow over time. The second have more opportunities, they’d be able to jump right into it quicker, and Alexander was already having a fun time going against what Washington had expected - no doubt the Stevens’ had told many a tale.

“Alexander certainly isn’t incorrect, but I don’t mind nicknames like that.”

He had never been a fan of pet names in the past, but there was something about how Washington said it. It hadn’t been derogatory, but simply a slip of the tongue. He could deal with that.

Conversation didn’t flow as much after that. It appeared to Alexander that Washington was taken aback by his responses. Washington was a sharp man, and was no doubt analyzing the situation to see how he’d react to all the differences from his expected behavior. Alexander didn’t quite know what it was that Washington, George, did - but it had to be something that involved intelligence and strategical thinking, he could see it in the way George assessed him. He was used to taking people in at first look and deciding what to do with them from there.

Alexander would have quite a bit of fun confusing him, and he could only hope that George would also find the amusement in it. If not, then their marriage would never work out - not that either of them had many options left at this point.

He had been ready to go off to the room George had vaguely pointed out as his at some point during his ramblings after his plate had been taken away, but George had motioned that he stay seated. Alexander got to watch as George very intently cut and placed strawberries atop a creation of cake and whipped cream before the dish was placed in front of him.

If he had been thinking more clearly, he might not have held back the moan that wanted to escape his lips at the first bite. Who knew that fruit and cake could be so delicious? 

Soon that plate too was cleared, and after an odd exchange of good nights, Alexander found himself lying alone in a bed that was now his. It was certainly much nicer than any he had laid on before. The room was huge, and it was gorgeous. There were three windows on the wall, that Alex knew would let in the sun in a way he’d both hate and love, depending on the circumstances. It was tastefully decorated as to be comfortable, but bare enough to be a sign that he was to claim it as his own.

There were certainly many adjustments ahead of him, but George seemed willing to work with rather than against him. He was sure there’d be many ups and downs, but Alexander was fairly certain that this was something he could get used to.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Alexander  woke up to a note clipped to the fridge with a magnet with the message, “Alexander - I didn’t want to wake you, and I hate to leave you alone your first full day here, but I’m afraid that work waits for no man. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen and explore the house. You can use the computer in my study if you want, and I’ll write the wifi code along with my number if you end up needing either of those. I’ll be back around 7, and I have plans for dinner.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about his first proper day in the U.S. being spent alone. A part of him was glad, as it gave him time to collect his thoughts and assess his feelings about the entire thing, as well as properly explore his surroundings. The other part him felt like George had abandoned him. Not that Alexander was clinging to the man or anything, but he couldn’t help it. Being alone in a large, strange house was far from a comfort.

There was a bowl of fruit out on the counter, which Alexander didn’t remember seeing before, so he grabbed a banana and started to explore. He hadn’t paid that much attention to anything outside of the foyer, kitchen, and his bedroom and attached bathroom the previous night. The kitchen was the open and modern space he had remembered from before, and it looked out into a large open living space that featured a wall of windows.

The entire home was beautiful and tastefully decorated, even though it seemed a bit bare. It was evident that George lived alone, and didn’t frequently have guests. George had mentioned friends the night before, so he wasn’t too lonely, hopefully. Maybe he had more reason for letting Alexander into his life than honoring a favor to a friend. It couldn’t be pleasant having this much space to oneself.

Alexander didn’t feel too comfortable in any single space in the house. He’d be able to eventually feel at home in his room, out of necessity if nothing else, but he wanted to carve out a space elsewhere. Preferably nearby places George frequented, to be able to easily get to each other if needed. 

He found the study that had been mentioned in the note. He wasn’t sure what he had expected - modern, sleek furniture, or a large oak desk in the middle of a dark, intimidating room. The room seemed almost unfinished, but in a comforting manner. The walls were white, and there were two windows letting in light. There were two bookshelves pushed up against the walls, and Alexander was pleased by what he saw when he perused the titles. The desk was simple, and on it was a large monitor. This room showed actual signs of use in the papers scattered across the desk, and the empty mugs found through the room - as if George had set it down when he had been pacing while on the phone.

Down the hall from the study was a library, and that was where Alexander was determined to make his own corner to write in. He wasn’t sure what George expected him to do with his time, but he was happy to use it to put towards his own interests. He wanted to go to school, but he figured that was a discussion to be had later. If George wasn’t willing to pay for it, Alexander was willing to work his way there himself. 

Eventually he stumbled across George’s bedroom, and had to internally struggle with whether or not he should snoop. The argument to snoop won out on the basis that depending on how things proceeded in the future, Alexander could very well end up spending his fair share of time in the room. He wasn’t necessarily planning on it, but he was being realistic and acknowledging that the possibility certainly existed.

The room was large, and a significant portion of the space was taken up by a large bed. There were side tables and a dresser, but other than a few generic paintings probably worth more than Alexander could fathom up on the walls, it was bare. There were windows in here too, as well as doors that presumably lead to a closet and bathroom. Even though he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong, he didn’t want to leave any obvious sign that he’d been there.

This much free time made Alexander antsy, and it didn’t help that he had no idea what to do. Unpacking took him about twenty minutes, and he found that he just couldn’t sit down and read. Everytime he tried to go and grab a book off a shelf and sit down, he’d find he couldn’t focus. His mind would keep drifting to how the evening would go, how the next week, month, year would all go. In a year, he’d be married - or he’d get sent back home.

He couldn’t get sent back home, this was his one chance and making something of himself, even if it meant being married to George Washington. It might be difficult to shake the status of mail-order bride, as that was no doubt how some people would interpret the situation, but he wouldn’t let it impede his goals. He wanted to make a difference, and for now he needed to figure out what he wanted that difference to be. Doctor and lawyer were jobs that were tossed around all the time, but the sciences had never captured his interest. Arguments though, those always had - and what more was a lawyer than one who professionally argued?

He’d go to school - maybe commute to a local college. He’d apply for scholarships if George didn’t want to pay for it. He had said he wanted to spoil Alexander, but maybe college tuition was taking it before. He knew from looking at it before that it required quite the pretty penny. 

He’d be able to do it, and later on, once he established himself, he and George could divorce unsuspiciously and they could go their separate ways. Everything would work out in the end, even if only for the sole reason of Alexander making it do so. 

Alexander walked back to his room, and pulled out a journal he had brought. He went back to the nook he had claimed for his own, and started to write. He now had a goal, of sorts. He’d bring it up to George during dinner. It might seem a bit abrupt, but Alexander needed to make his plans known. 

He outlined it all in vague terms - knowing that the final goal was the most important thing there, and he needed to be flexible in how he wanted to achieve it. He wrote it like a speech presenting his life to a crowd of people. The words flowed and flowed and flowed, and by the time he was finished, he had filled about ten pages and he heard dogs barking outside. George hadn’t mentioned any pets, but Alexander wasn’t all that surprised.

He went downstairs to investigate, and was unsurprised to find George walking in. The dogs must have been barking at the car, and it was a wonder that he hadn’t noticed them the previous night.

Alexander decided this was a prime opportunity to amuse himself.

“Honey, you’re home. I’ve simply been waiting for you hour upon hour, feeling empty without your presence as a constant source of comfort at my side. Also, I was not aware we had dogs.”

George smiled slightly, and Alexander considered it a success. Fondness and affection were important to build early in if the wanted to enjoy their time together.

“Oh, so I’m honey now? And yes, I have quite a few. They’re good about not barking as the car rolls up, but I went in to see to them, so that’s why you heard them.”

“So, you wrote that you had plans for dinner.”

George was in the middle of taking off his blazer, and spoke with his back to Alexander.

“Yes! We had burgers yesterday, so I thought it might be better to go with a healthier option tonight. I’m making a zucchini and seafood pasta, using a spiralizer. I have shrimp and scallops, and I’ll be using a light sauce.”

Alexander found himself the slightest bit surprised.

“I take it you’re really into the whole cooking thing?”

George was rolling up his sleeves, and making his way to the kitchen. Alexander followed, and sat down in the same stool as before.

“Yes, actually. Martha is the one who got me into it. She told me I needed to stop eating like a bachelor, and took it upon herself to sign me up for cooking classes. That first week without takeout changed my life, and I have never looked back.”

The night went much as before, the conversation still awkward at some points, but flowing a bit more smoothly. Alexander found out that Martha was an old friend of George’s, he had met her in college, and had pretended that she was his girlfriend during the holidays to appease his parents. 

The pasta was possibly the most delicious thing Alexander had put in his mouth. It was unfair, really, that George was attractive, wealthy, intelligent, kind, and could cook. 

Their next week and a half together passed in much the same manner. George would go to work, Alexander would occupy himself, and then George would make dinner and talk about his day and Alexander would conveniently forget to bring up his plans for his own future.

Until one day, Alexander’s hand started to cramp and he found he couldn’t write anymore, so he started to explore the kitchen. 

George would spend however long necessary on his feet in the kitchen after working every day to make them some sort of delicious meal, while Alexander would sit by and watch. If they were truly going through with this, they needed to figure this out - it was a bit unbalanced. Alexander may be far from typical trophy-wife material, but anyone could learn to be a homemaker, right? He’d be able to figure out how to play the part of the southern belle. 

It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

It turns out that preparing a meal was extremely complicated. Alexander had the general idea of what he wanted. He knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to try to cook chicken or a steak or something that could actually make you sick if not cooked properly, so he thought pasta would be a safe bet.

Pasta was not a safe bet.

Apparently water could burn, and so could sauce. The sauce Alexander could understand, the water took a lot more thought then he wanted to put towards the matter. He had gotten distracted flipping through the cookbooks liked the 1950s housewife he was trying to be, and next thing he knew the fire alarm was going off and there was smoke and the sauce was smoking and the water was gone.

Rather than dealing with having to clean and put the pans and such back to their proper places, Alexander put everything into a garbage bag and took it outside, ridding the kitchen of all evidence of his having interfered. 

A quick glance at the clock told him that George would be home in about an hour. Enough time to cobble together a decent meal, but that wasn’t a risk Alexander was willing to take. 

Instead he found the number for the local chinese and ordered delivery. 

The food might not be that great, and certainly wasn’t in line with the healthy trend George had been setting, but it was something and surely it was the thought behind the action that counted more than the food.

The chinese got there approximately ten minutes before George did, and Alexander could work with that. He served it up all fancy on plates, but decided to leave the cartons out and not even try to hide the fact that he had ordered in.

Alexander wish he had an apron on when George walked in - it would have painted a much more amusing picture than him in his sweats holding two plates full of rice and greasy chicken.

George walked in while in the process of rolling up his sleeves - obviously intending to start cooking. If Alexander wouldn’t have cleared his throat, he wasn’t sure if George would have stopped himself before colliding with him.

But Alexander did clear his throat, and he was greeted with the sight of George’s confused face.

“Uh, I tried to make dinner, and, um, I failed.”

“You tried to make dinner.”

“Yes, I figured that I might as well fully accept the role of house spouse while you went out into the world to provide.”

“House spouse.”

“Yes. It rhymes.”

“We’re not married.”

“But we’re going to be.”

Alexander walked to the breakfast bar that they had taken to eating dinner at, and set the plates down, and sat in his usual seat. 

George soon joined him and poked at the chicken on his plate with his fork.

“So, you failed at making dinner.”

“Yes. Apparently I cannot be wonderful at everything, only most things.”

“Only most things.”

“I’m fantastic in most regards, you’re lucky to have snatched me up when you did. There were lines of suitors following me when I walked down the street.”

“And that’s why you came to America.”

“I mean, I came here because the Stevens’ didn’t want to deal with the paternity rumors anymore and also I want an American education.”

Oops. That wasn’t how Alexander was planning on presenting that, but he supposed it certainly wasn’t the most terrible of ways to introduce the concept. 

George looked at him, but didn’t seem too surprised. His eyes weren’t portraying any significant aversion, and Alexander was ready to work with what he was given.

“Well, I’m not stupid, but I know that I need more than just my brain to get anywhere in this world. As much as  I might occasionally joke about making you provide for me in all ways while I lounge around your home after we get married, I am going to go out there and work for myself. I have plans, and goals, and I want to make something of myself. I refuse to be reliant on others, they always end up leaving me, and when we get divorced you will too. But at least this time I’ll be able to continue living life as I’m meant to, without having to rely on others for support.”

Alexander felt a hand on his shoulder, and his chair was turned so that he was facing George - their knees only inches apart.

“Alex, sweetheart, you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“I tend to do that.”

“I’ve noticed.” 

“What am I getting ahead of myself about here now though, because I don’t think I am. I’m being perfectly realistic here. You’re not going to want me here forever, and I have to accept that. You’re getting nothing out of this. I mean, sure, it might be nice to have a pretty young thing around for company, but eventually you’ll get sick of me. I’m going to go to college, and then I’m going to be successful in my own right, and then we can each move on.”

“Well, it’s been about a week and I haven’t really noticed anything that makes me want to kick you out onto the street just yet. Don’t think I’m not getting anything out of this, and while you might be attractive, that’s not the main focus here. I offered to do this as a favor to a friend, and perhaps because I wanted companionship, and from what I was told about you, I figured we’d get along fine. I haven’t been proven wrong yet, and I’m a very patient man. And I don’t know why you’re talking about divorce when we’re not even married. I haven’t officially proposed to you, the only thing tying us together right now is your visa. And Alex, I have nothing against you going to college. In fact, I’ll pay for it.”

Alexander was shocked. This was going exactly as he had hoped it would - ignoring the slight breach into more person topics - and that was the last thing he had expected to happen. 

“You can’t just expect me to let you pay for me college tuition.”

“Why not? You’ll be my husband, and I did tell you I was going to try my best to spoil you. Sure, you might be after an education rather than a diamonds, but in the end it’s about the same cost.” 

“I never said I didn’t want diamonds.”

George laughed, and Alexander smiled. The hand that was on his shoulder had shifted to his knee, and there was a sort of comfort to be found in the warmth that was gathered there.

Before Alexander could think of something to say, George started to speak once again. 

“Now, this is a discussion that can be had at another time. We can focus on the actually getting married part of that plan before we start looking at universities - and I promise you that we’ll do that. I don’t even have to be a part of that process, if you’d prefer that. Simply hand me the bill, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. But, right now, I need to know what the hell you’re trying to feed me.”

Alexander looked down at his half-empty plate, and then looked over to George’s that had yet to be touched. 

“Have you never ordered Chinese?”

George smiled at his plate before saying, “It’s been a while.”

“What kind of health freak are you? That’s it, I’m calling this marriage off.”

George laughed, and so did Alexander. It was a happy moment, and it set the tone for the rest of the evening.

Not many more words were exchanged. Alexander continued to eat his Chinese while George prepared himself a sandwich, and they’d occasionally share a laugh over a comment one of them made.

It was a pleasant evening, and their meal was concluded with George telling Alex that he was never allowed to try to make dinner again, since it resulted in two missing pots and his kitchen smelling of take-out.

Alexander swore when George mentioned the pots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't incorporate dialogue, and I'm the terrible person who never looks over anything she writes so I claim full responsibility for any grammatical, spelling, and continuity errors.


	3. Chapter 3

The more time that passed by, the more comfortable they became with each other. It was interesting because while they did live together, due to the size of George’s home, they had to actively choose to spend time in the same room. Alexander could very easily go days without seeing George if he decided to simply by avoiding the kitchen and other areas of the home at key times of the day.

Alexander was never one for sleeping in, and while he did try to embrace the habit his first couple mornings, he very quickly decided that it wasn’t worth it. At first he spent the time locked up in his bedroom, waiting for George to leave before heading downstairs and reading whatever note was set out for him that day. 

A couple of days after the pot incident, he started to wake up with George. They’d each tread into the kitchen around the same time, and Alexander would sit at the breakfast bar while George made coffee and started to throw something together for breakfast. The first morning he had been met with an odd gaze, but it eventually settled into a routine. It was domestic, and it was lovely. 

The mornings were peaceful, and the mornings passed by. Every day that passed by made Alexander think of how little time they had until they had to figure out their future, and potentially the rest of their lives. He was always brimming with questions, that he was never quite sure how to ask. How did George feel about him? How was George viewing the entire situation? Were they just not discussing it because they both knew it was going to happen? Were they not discussing it because it was an altogether terrible situation?

Alexander was never too good at keeping quiet, so eventually something had to give

And so Alexander asked George about his lunch. 

“Huh?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, you always make yourself breakfast and then you make us both dinner since I am a disaster in the kitchen and cannot cook, but what do you do for lunch at work? On the weekends you’ve just made something, but obviously that’s not something you can do while in an office.”

“Uh, I don’t eat lunch.”

What Alexander was about to do was terribly hypocritical, since he was terrible about reminding himself to eat, and if it wasn’t for George, would probably be lucky to make a single meal a day. And yet, he was doing it anyways.

“What do you mean you don’t eat lunch? You can’t just not eat lunch? You need to eat regularly to maintain your metabolism, and you always eat a lighter breakfast and even if you’re constantly drinking coffee throughout the day, that’s not enough to hold you until you get home. Oh my god, do I need to once again take on the apron mantle of house spouse and start making you lunch?”

“Last time you tried to cook two pots mysteriously vanished.”

“I’m going to make you lunch.”

The following morning, Alexander woke up an entire two hours before George usually made his way down to the kitchen. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he was determined that he was going to do something. George liked to eat healthy, so he had to stick with that theme - not that there were many other options available in the pantry. 

Theoretically, he knew that adults liked to have actual meals for lunch - variations of pastas, protein and vegetable combinations, or salads. 

Alexander had not forgotten the last time he tried to make pasta, and didn’t trust himself to properly cook any kind of meat. A salad was a possibility, but he was going to stick with the tried and true sandwich. Protein was good, and peanut butter was a protein, right? Peanut butter was a classic, and the only people who didn’t like a good old peanut butter and jelly sandwich were those who died if they smelled peanuts.

And of course there was no peanut butter or jelly to be found in the kitchen of George Washington’s home. 

Alexander was going to have to improvise. There was some sort of honey walnut almond butter combo, as well as some fancy berry preserves that he didn’t recognize. They were going to have to work, and so Alexander started to make the sandwiches out of the fancy substitutes for basic ingredients and some ridiculously healthy version of bread.

He makes one sandwich, and realizes that a full-grown man probably needs more than that, and makes a second. He puts them in some plastic containers, and then takes one of the sheets of the notepad that George usually writes his notes on, and draws a heart and his name.

To be a house spouse was his mission and plan for this activity, and he was going to succeed at that. He still had a little over an hour and a half before George would make his way down into the kitchen. There was a part in his soul that was telling him to start making breakfast and wipe down the countertops and do the dishes, but that part of his was quickly shut down. Instead, he turned on the timer on the coffee pot and walked to the living room and started to watch the news.

Unknown to Alexander, George had a tendency to wake up to the sound of people shouting in his home. Unknown to George, Alexander got very emotionally invested in the American political climate, and had no problem expressing his outrage via yelling at the television. 

George had no problem acknowledging that the current election was a complete mess, but he also realized that the only control he had over the situation was with his vote. He was never one for such fits of passion, but he was not entirely surprised that Alexander was. He seemed to be the type of man who approached everything with anger, and politics were certainly something that towards.

When he was a kid, he used to say he wanted to be president. As he grew older, George realized that the political scene was simply not for him - he was much too resistant to change, and often refused to budge after making his mind. He wouldn’t be the type to adapt properly to a changing climate, and that would most likely only result in madness. Besides, after Trump, he didn’t think a businessman running for president would be very welcomed. Alexander certainly had the passion to go after such a position, but it didn’t look like he had the temperament - or the birth certificate.

It was during a commercial break that Alexander noticed George’s presence. He immediately felt the blood rush to his face, but didn’t move from where he was - on his feet, a small distance in front of the couch where he had originally been sitting.

“Uh, hello George.”

“Good morning, Alexander.”

“I, uh, am just watching the news.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m sure you can.”

There was a beep from the kitchen, and George gave Alexander a confused look.

“I think that’s just the coffee pot turning on - I set the timer when I first woke up.”

“How long have you been awake.”

“A while.”

“Have any more pots mysteriously vanished?”

“No.”

“Alright then.”

George walked into the kitchen, and Alexander followed, taking his usual seat at the breakfast bar. 

The container with the note on it was still sitting on the counter where Alexander had left it, and he really hoped that George didn’t notice it, or if he did, wouldn’t say anything. Alexander had the moment planned, and it involved surprise on George’s part.

He really should no better than to plan things and expect them to go a certain way, because of course the first thing George did once he poured his cup of coffee was read the note and throw a weird look his way.

‘’Is this another attempt at being a housewife?”

“House spouse”

“Oh yes, it rhymes.”

“What is it?”

“That’s your lunch.”

“You made me lunch?”

“It’s not going to poison you.”

“But do you know that for certain?”

“I’m like ninety-nine percent sure”

“I don’t like the odds”

“It’s ninety-nine to one”

“I repeat myself, I don’t like the odds.”

Alexander accepted the cup of coffee George handed him, while sticking out his tongue like the mature adult that he was. There was a certain intensity in George’s gaze directed at his mouth, and Alexander filed it away for later.

George went through with the rest of his routine, and Alexander yelled at the news anchors again waiting for George to make his way back downstairs. 

Alexander felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to find George dressed for the day. He jumped up from where he was sitting, and grabbed George’s lunch on his way to stand by the door. He had this moment planned, and while the surprise might be removed from the rest of the situation, the rest could still happen.

Alexander stood there for longer than he might have wanted to, but in his haste he hadn’t exactly factored in George grabbing a to-go cup, and doing whatever other last-minute things that needed to be done before he went to work. But when George finally stood across from him, Alexander stood on his toes, and kissed George once on each cheek, handing him the plastic container and wishing he have a good day at work.

George seemed confused, but generally happy with the situation, and that was all Alexander wanted. The moment went according to plan for the most part, and the first successful house-spouse moment had been completed.

Alexander passed the day as he usually did - sleeping and eating and planning the rest of his life. George had apparently been mentally occupied with similar tasks during the day, because during their usual dinner chat, the subject of their pasts was brought up.

“So, Alexander, you know we’re getting married.”

“Well, I’d hope so.”

The stir-fry George had made was delicious, and Alexander couldn’t help but be a little upset that George wanted to interrupt the affair he was currently having with the dish to discuss their upcoming nuptials.

“Well, as much as I love coming home to you every day and having our nice bubble here, eventually we are going to have to convince the rest of the world - my friends, family, and the immigration office - that we’re actually in love with one another. I feel like that requires knowing about our lives.”

“Probably.”

Alexander loved talking, and he had always been particularly fond of explaining his own views and opinions and talking about topics that were especially relevant to his life and his experiences. However, he had gotten really good at talking around the events he liked to pretend had never happened in the first place. Unfortunately, George has a point, and he’d eventually have to figure out his own shit and share some of it with George.

George took a long sip of the beer he had poured before sitting down to eat, and started to speak, “I guess I’ll start. This was actually my parents’ home, and where I grew up. It goes back a few generations, and you could probably describe us as old money. I’m not sure where it came from to begin with, and I’ve never questioned it too much. I know some of my cousins like to say that the original Washington’s were plantation owners, and they somehow willed it to their slaves who fought over who got the biggest share of the property. I’m not sure how much I’d believe that, but I’ve never been that curious about it. I did my undergrad at the William and Mary, before getting my Masters at Harvard. I utilized what connections I had to get a good position at the company I’m still working at now, and rose through the ranks through hard work, skill, and more utilization of connections.”

Alexander chewed, before responding, “I hate people like you.”

George had another sip of his beer.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“You’re not half bad though.”

“You’re not half bad either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*~I'm still failing in most ways~*~
> 
> Classicalcassiopeia on tumblr made an edit for this fic!!! 
> 
> http://kookookarli.tumblr.com/post/150876102765/classicalcassiopeia-edit-for-kookookarlis-90


	4. Chapter 4

It was the weekend. George had been warning him that it’d be a bit busy, and Alexander was looking forward to that. It wasn’t that he had particularly been hating his time, it just got boring day in and day out. Alexander Hamilton was not meant to be a house-spouse, despite how entertaining George might find his attempts at becoming one.

Ambling into the kitchen at about 9, Alexander found a plate full of food and a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him at his usual place at the breakfast bar. There were blueberry pancakes topped with slices of banana and cut up strawberries. It was exactly the sort of thing Alexander had dreamed of having for breakfast on a regular basis as a little kid. 

George smiled at him when he walked over, and and pushed a small ramekin of syrup closer to his plate. 

It was a good start to the day.

They ate their food and drank their coffee, basking in the sun coming through the kitchen window. 

The silence was not meant to last for long, as they had things to do, and the outside world waits for no man. 

George set down his coffee and started to speak, “Alexander, I’m afraid the time has come that we must start to convince the outside world of our mutual love and affection. I was planning on starting that this morning by looking at wedding bands, and perhaps finding a ring that fits you to serve as an engagement ring. My one friend, Martha, has been pestering me about meeting you, so I was thinking we could perhaps have dinner with her and a few others tonight.”

And so it began.

Alexander knew this was coming, and part of him had been exciting for things to start actually happening, but it was also weird. They been happy together, in their own way, and now it was going to change. They had to face what they had been joking about, but not fully acknowledging: their impending marriage. It could no longer be a shared joke between them, they had to start playing the game and convincing everyone around them. Alexander could not afford for them to lose. 

George might not seem that nervous at the prospect of dinner with his friends, but Alexander knew that they were going to take this opportunity to judge him, and determine if he was here for the right reasons, and if he was worthy of George Washington.

No one was worthy of George Washington, but Alexander had to somehow prove to them that he was.

Before worrying about what the night might bring, they had to start their day, and George intended for them to do that at a jewelry store.

Alexander also set his coffee down, “George, you do know that if we end up getting an engagement ring, people are going to use that as something to judge us, and by us I mean me, by. If I get something shiny and glitzy, people will go the gold-digger after a green card route in their opinion of me. If I don’t get a ring, or get something too simple and seemingly without meaning, people will think we’re only using it as a farce.” 

“Sweetheart, both of those things are true.”

“Of that I am perfectly aware, my dearest fiance.” 

“So, which route do you want to go.”

Alexander smiled, before saying, “Well, that simply depends on what your budget is for this.”

George started to laugh, and Alexander was just grateful their senses of humor were compatible. There were much too many men in the world who might have taken his comment in a much more negative manner.

They walked into the jewelry store hand in hand, and Alexander couldn’t help but notice that their fingers fit together almost as if they were made for one another. Almost immediately upon their arrival they were guided towards the wall featuring the engagement rings and wedding bands, and it made Alexander’s chest a little fluttery.

That feeling was not meant to last, as soon they were faced with the difficult task of actually making decisions. 

They had an aesthetic to maintain. George was by no means an extravagant man - he liked things of very, very high quality, but everything tended to be simple and classic in design. They had decided to go with matching bands, and that meant finding a band that suited both of their preferences, and went well with whatever engagement ring Alexander chose.

He was going to wear them properly, thank you very much - and by that, he meant stacked on his left ring finger.

The main problem was that they kept finding bands they liked, but they didn’t want to make their final choice until they found the engagement ring. 

And then Alexander found it.

The single most ridiculous diamond ring he had ever seen in his life. 

He needed it.

All it took was a tug on George’s sleeve before he too was enamored with the light reflecting off of it.

“Alexander, if someone asked me to design that a ring that screamed ‘I am marrying this old man with the hopes that he’ll die within the next year’ it would that one, right there. Martha is going to eat you alive.”

“I look forward to it.”

They ended up choosing a solid platinum band. 

For lunch they ended up at a nearby cafe, and Alexander kept finding himself distracted by the light positively radiating from his left hand. It was magnificent.

“I cannot believe that of all the possibilities, that is the ring you chose.”

“You didn’t have to say yes.”

They had both gotten salads, due to the heavier dinner they were eating later. Having a conversation while eating a salad was terrible, simply because he could never manage to get the entire piece of lettuce in his mouth. He’d struggle to chew his food like a civilized human being, and George would simply stare at him, waiting for him to speak, laughing while he failed.

“But, George, you did say yes, after acknowledging that if there were ever a ring that screamed gold digger, it was this one. You’re into that, aren’t you? You like the idea of me being a kept boy, don’t you?”

“This is hardly appropriate lunch conversation.”

“But you’re not denying it.”

“No, I’m not.”

“And here, I was told that you were the type of man that admired someone who worked hard to achieve their goals. I thought you were simply doing this to help me get back on my feet, as it were. And yet, I find that’s not the case.”

“I do admire people who work hard to earn what they get in life, but sometimes I think that not everyone should have to.”

“I see.”

Alexander stabbed his fork in a particularly stubborn piece of lettuce that refused to budge from the bottom of the plate. 

Much sooner than he’d prefer, Alexander found himself wearing clothing nicer than anything he had worn before, and ushered into the passenger seat of the car. George had insisted they do a little bit of shopping before heading home from the cafe. 

Alexander was nervous. This was his first test. He had to convince George’s friends, who had known him for years, that he and George truly loved one another. He wasn’t necessarily nervous due to a lack of acting ability - he was more than positive that they’d be able to pull off the lovey-dovey couple act no problem.

It was going to become a concern when serious questions started to be asked, especially considering his background. Alexander had a temper, and once he got worked up, it could potentially take him weeks to cool down. He was more than aware of this, but it wasn’t something he could always control.

The past week had been okay. George hadn’t pried into his life too much, and Alexander was allowed to pretend that everything was okay on that front. He doubted the others would be the same, and George wouldn’t necessarily be able to back him up, as Alexander hadn’t told him anything of importance.

The possibility of him making some sort of scene was very existent.

Alexander felt a warm hand on his knee, holding it in place and stopping his leg from bouncing.

George had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on his leg. He glanced at Alexander out of the corner of his eye before saying, “Alright, so we’re meeting with three of my closest friends - Martha, Gilbert, and his wife, Adrienne. Gilbert will welcome you with open arms, and I warn you that he’s a bit over affectionate - he blames it on being French - but you’ll get used to him pretty quickly. Adrienne usually does a good job of reining him in. Martha is someone I’ve known since I was young, and our parents expected us to get married. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Do you think me knowing French gives me a free pass with Gilbert and his wife?”

“You know French?”

“Oui.”

George’s eyes were still focused on the road ahead of them, but there was a certain intensity in his gaze when he said, “Well, that is something I’d love to hear given the right occasion.” 

Alexander could hear the hidden meaning to those words, but he chose not to comment on it for the time being, instead asking, “So, if I don’t have to worry about Gilbert and Adrienne, I’m assuming Martha should be my main cause of concern?”

“Unfortunately, yes. She’ll do it from a place of love, but that might not quite come across. She might act as if nothing's the matter, but she might also interrogate you over dinner, I have no idea.”

“So I should just go with the flow?”

“As much as possible.”

They were seated at a round table in the middle of the restaurant, and Alexander was relieved when he realized that Martha had not yet arrived. 

The man who Alexander presumed to be Gilbert stood upon their arrival, and pulled George close to him and kissed both of his cheeks. Adrienne repeated the action, and there were greetings shared between the three. Alexander felt a hand in his, and he was quickly pulled over to George’s side. 

A moment passed where he was under scrutiny, before Gilbert once against smiled, and he was given the same treatment as George had been, except instead of hellos, Gilbert was saying, “Ah, so you must be the beloved Alexander. I have heard so little about you, you simply must tell me everything. You are every bit as beautiful as I had imagine the man who stole our dear George’s heart would be.”

Alexander smiled, there was something about Gilbert that radiated joy, and he simply couldn’t help it.

“Why thank you, monsieur. From a man as charming as yourself, that is certainly quite the compliment.”

Gilbert smiled, and then he pulled Adrienne to his side and said, “Ah, I simply must introduce you to my amazing wife, who has blessed me with her presence in my life, and is better than me in all ways. May I present, Adrienne de Noailles, Marquise de Lafayette.”

“Marquise?”

Adrienne pushed Gilbert out of the way, and smiled, “Ignore him, he just likes to be ridiculous. Call me Adrienne.”

And then the moment Alexander had been dreading occurred, Martha arrived.

She approached the table with a sharp click of heels on hardwood, and the sound of a strong, clear voice calling out, “Oh, George, it’s simply been much too long - and this must be your Alexander.” 

Her hand was resting on George’s shoulder, and part of Alexander bristled at the sight. 

There was something in the way she regarded him that rubbed Alexander the wrong way. Watching her greet the others displayed that she seemed to be a wonderful person, and one who held true affection for George, Adrienne, and Gilbert - she simply held only disdain for him. Alexander had hoped that she was planning on forming her opinion based on the events of the evening, but it seemed to be that she had already made up her mind. 

Thankfully, once they were all seated and had ordered their drinks, everything was going rather nicely. They were discussing their days, and Gilbert and Adrienne were discussing the various shenanigans that GIlbert’s family had gotten into on their last visit to France. It was funny, and there were laughs and Alexander found himself enjoying the meal. George’s hand had questioningly settled onto his thigh at some point, and Alexander had rested his hand on top of it firmly, and so there it stayed for the rest of the time. 

Dinner was delicious, and it was while they were all sipping their after-meal drinks that Martha finally made a comment.

“Why, Alexander, let me see your ring - that certainly is quite a sight.”

He was perfectly aware that it was a sight - and it was a gorgeous one. George’s hand gripped his thigh slightly, no longer simply resting there, but actively reminding him that George was with him. It was nice, knowing he had that support.

It was even nicer when George gave it verbally, “We saw it at the jewelers, and simply had to have it.”

Martha wasn’t having it.

“Whatever happened to your belief that diamonds were overly priced pieces of carbon, and that colored gemstones are oftentimes so much more beautiful and meaningful, for a fraction of the cost?”

Ah, yes, the money comments - exactly what Alexander had been dreading. He was the only one at this table that didn’t have it, and they all knew it. He held George’s hand tight, and took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

“Ah, but Martha, surely you’ve looked at Alex. I thought about getting some sort of sapphire, but nothing can compete with his eyes. He had wanted to go with basic wedding bands - it was I who insisted on it. I know what you’re trying to get it. We’ve been friends for years, surely you can trust me to make these sorts of decisions.”

Adrienne was sitting on Alexander’s other side, and was trying to tell him about the time that Gilbert had once been so tired, that he accidently ordered his coffee in French while in New York. He had apparently had no clue, and had left the poor barista guessing at what he wanted. Gilbert also budded in, telling him about how when they were walking around the city, Adrienne had admitted defeat to her heels, and had bought a pair of crocs so that they could continue enjoying the sights. 

They were adorable to watch, but it was incredibly obvious that they were only trying to distract Alexander from the growing tension between George and Martha.

He appreciated the efforts.

They were not to last for long, as not much time passed before Alexander was being ushered out the door, and after rushed goodbyes to the French couple, George and Alexander were on their way back to their home.

George was not in a good mood, but neither was Alexander.

“George, you do know that us rushing out, and you barely letting me say anything probably didn’t help our case. It was obvious that she had already formed her opinion about me before she even walked through the door of the restaurant. I was hoping to try to convince her otherwise, but you wouldn’t let me.”

The absence of George’s hand on him was noticeable, and Alexander was sure that there were going to be marks in the steering wheel from how tightly George was gripping it.

“Alexander, Alex, sweetheart, I realize this. But, she wasn’t there to talk to you. I thought we were going into this meal as an introduction, but she was viewing it as an opportunity to discourage me.”

“I thought you said they were under the impression that we had been together for a while.”

“Gilbert is, Martha saw right through it. Says she would have known the instant I met a man worth a thought, let alone marriage.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. I’ll talk to her after I’ve calmed down, I’ll just regret anything I say if i were to call her now.”

“What did she even say? Why are you so angry? I thought she was your friend?”

“She is, don’t get me wrong. She is just under the impression that I’ve been taken in by you, by your pretty face and willing body. She said that I’ve been lonely for far too long, and I shouldn’t be falling prey to some boy who just wants a way into the states. She’s doing it out of a place of concern, she’s genuinely worried that you’re out to get me in some manner.”

“Why can’t you just tell her the truth?”

“Because were something to come to light, there’s no promise that she wouldn’t take it to the immigration office or wherever you send those concerns. She’d be doing it with what she thought was me best interest in mind, but that is something I would really love to avoid.”

Alexander also wished to avoid that, but not at the expense of George’s closest friendship. He wasn’t worth that.

“George, I don’t want this ruining your friendship with Martha. I’m not worth that.”

“You’re worth whatever I deem you’re worth. And this won’t ruin any friendship, she’ll come around. I’m sure at some point she’ll try to talk to you one-on-one.”

“I guess that’s something to look forward to.”


	5. Chapter 5

Alexander liked to stay up-to-date on current affairs, and George liked to have the news as background noise. When it became apparent that Alexander watched and paid attention to what was happening, and then formed opinions, George became more invested. It was not uncommon for them to watch the news in the evenings before going their separate ways to bed.

A part of Alexander wondered what would happen if they didn’t go their separate ways, but he was able to shove those thoughts down with the thought that they still had time. He still had time to properly convince Washington that he was good enough.

There were signs, in Washington’s small actions and words that his minds occasionally went down the same path. Alexander knew he wasn’t unattractive, and as such he was used to that sort of thing. It was simply too soon for the man to properly act upon any desires he might have.

But that wasn’t what was at the forefront of his mind, because in that very moment the newscaster was making a report about how right-wing conservatives were still trying to overturn the marriage equality laws. 

Alexander was not at all happy with that, though logically he knew it was unlikely to happen, the fact that the movement existed at all was extremely frustrating, “George, this is it, we gotta get married now. Right now. Fuck the ceremony. Fuck the process. Because apparently we might not be able to if these assholes get their way.”

He was standing on the coffee table, and he was being pulled down while George was saying, “Alex, sweetheart, I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.”

“Well, it should be.”

“I’m not disagreeing, but speaking of getting married - that is actually something we should talk about.”

Sitting back down on the couch, he was hit with the realization that they would actually be getting married at some point, and that point would be happening sooner rather than later. Sure, he had known this the entire time, but they hadn’t really breached the subject besides a couple of comments here or there.

Alexander Hamilton was actually going to marry George Washington, and not only did he have to worry about proving to Martha that he wanted to do that, they actually had to sit down and talk about it like adults.

If Alexander had a pen in his hand at the moment, it’d be spinning between his fingers. But Alexander did not have a pen, and so he had to settle for squeezing the couch, which was not nearly as satisfying. 

He took in a deep breath, knowing that this conversation had to actually go somewhere, before saying, “Probably. Right, marriage. I came here, to the United States, for the purpose of marrying you. We have to actually do that in two months. It can take people over a year to plan a wedding, and we have less than three months. I don’t imagine we should try to push the wedding back too close to the deadline, in case anything else were to happen. We need to be prepared should anything go wrong.”

George reached and grabbed the remote, turning the tv before turning to Alexander and saying, “Alright. Let’s start with a date and venue and the big questions, like whether or not we want to have an actual ceremony or not. I’ll admit that I’m far from an expert and just what planning a wedding entails, but I certainly know the basics.”

“I don’t know that much either, but I have heard that it can be the true test for a relationship.”

George laughed before responding, “Well, fortunately for us, we don’t have to deal with overbearing mother-in-laws sticking their nose in everything.”

Alexander knew George didn’t mean it in any sort of way, especially coming from a man who was also without his mother, but it still brought up old pains. His mother would have been happy for him, no matter the oddness of the situation. She would have liked George too, would have said that he was a strong man, with enough will to keep Alex in good shape and on a good track for the rest of his life. 

He looked over at George and smiled before saying, “You know, my mother would have liked you, I think.”

George returned the smile, and they spent the next moment simply smiling at each other. It was these quiet moments that made Alexander realize he might not hate the future ahead of him, and it wasn’t one that he’d need or want to fight to leave. It was a strange thought, but a welcome one. 

Suddenly, Alexander through back to when George said they should probably tell the other about their stories, or at least start to. After all, you do need to know something about your spouse. Alexander hadn’t said anything that day, but suddenly his entire story was ready to be told, and he wasn’t going to stop it.

“Alright, so, um, I know we were talking about the wedding, but you said a while ago that we should probably start learning about the other’s past, yeah? Well, while I’m thinking of my mom, I might as well, tell you about her, and me, I guess.”

George sat back in his face, and adopted what Alexander could only describe as an active listening face. He appreciate it, because he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth once he started.

“Okay. So. Um, I was born in Nevis. My mom’s name was Rachel Faucette, and she fell in love with my dad. The marriage situation wasn’t exactly ideal, but I don’t want to get too much into that. They moved to St. Croix at some point. My father, James Hamilton, was from a wealthy family in Scotland, but he wasn’t too good with money. He gambled and drank, and eventually he left me and my mother to fend for ourselves, though for some reason he chose to take my brother.”

He really appreciated the active listening face, even though he was looking out the window in order to avoid looking directly at George. 

“Well, my mom was working a retail job at a tourist-y boutique, and I started to help out back once I was old enough. Well, not technically old enough I guess, but I could do the job, and that counted. I’d go to school, and then I’d help my mom. Then she got sick. I didn’t know what it was, and the doctors weren’t that helpful. They gave her antibiotics, but they didn’t do anything. Looking back on it, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kind of cancer.”

George had the ability to hum at all the right parts, without being annoying about it. It was nice.

“I moved in with my cousin, who was facing his own struggles at the time. He ended up offing himself. I didn’t really know where to go, but I didn’t have too much time to worry about that because a hurricane hit. I didn’t really have anywhere to go, but then again neither did anyone else. It’s a miracle I survived, but for a long time I didn’t see it like that. I don’t know where I’d be if the Stevens’ hadn’t taken me in. They were neighbors, I guess. I knew them before my mom died, and they opened their arms to me. I was with them for a while, and now I’m here.”

“And now you’re here.”

Alexander looked back at George, “And now I’m here.”

George laid an open hand on the couch cushion between them, but said nothing. Alexander saw the invitation for what it was, and took it. He moved closer until his knee was brushing George’s thigh, and their entwined hands were resting on his leg. He leaned forward until his head was resting on George’s shoulder, hesitant with the motion. George tensed slightly, but made no motion to change their positions, and Alexander found himself relaxing into it.

It was obvious that George had questions, but he kept them to himself, instead choosing to place his lips in Alexander’s hair for a short moment. 

Alexander kept his eyes focused on the trees he could see through the window. The property he would soon be calling his own truly was beautiful.

A thought occurred to him, “Hey, George, what if we got married here, on the property? That way we don’t have to worry about booking, and we can control exactly how fancy we want it to be. I’ll admit that while a courthouse wedding would work, a little more ceremony for the whole affair would be nice. If we had it here, we could control just how casual we wanted it to be.”

George hummed, and said, “I’d like that, actually. I was thinking about that myself, but I didn’t necessarily want to suggest it.”

“Why not?”

“I guess it felt a bit like a cop out, and oh, I don’t know, a home wedding doesn’t necessarily fit with the vibe you’ve been throwing off since we got you that ring.”

Alexander laughed and stretched out his hand in front of them. He had told himself he needed to get in the habit of wearing a ring, so he made sure to put it on every morning, even when he was just in the library while George was at work. It really was obnoxious, but he loved it.

“The ring is great and you know it.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

He smiled into George’s shoulder, before saying, “Good. But, no, I like the idea of having the wedding here. It’ll be nice having the familiarity, and you know that it’s beautiful. Besides, I don’t imagine we’ll move, so we’ll always have those memories to look back on. I hope we’ll consider it with fondness. Besides, if we’re looking at it from a persuading the others point of view, it serves both to be nice and romantic, as well as relatively simple. And it gives us the freedom to make it as small or as large as we’d like. Though, I don’t imagine there will be that many people.”

“A beautiful, simple ceremony. I like it.”

“I do too.”

It was awfully domestic, and still completely bizarre. Here they were discussing their wedding, and their future together. It was weird to think that neither were actively planning on divorcing one another after a set time. George’s point had been, “Why would we? I mean, if either of us were to meet someone else, that’d be a different story. But, until then, we don’t have to live together if we end up hating each other, and we’ll still benefit from tax break. And, for your benefit, even if I hate you, I’d want to make sure you’re supported.”

Alexander hadn’t known how to feel about the last bit, but he had accepted it. And now they had to figure out a date.

“I imagine the trees and everything look really pretty in fall.”

It was weird having a conversation and being so close but not looking at the other.

“They do. I would say plan the wedding for that time, actually. But we can’t guarantee the leaves changing, and even if we could, it’d be pushing it a bit close for my tastes.”

“How about in a month, then? It won’t give us the most time, but it’ll give us just enough to do everything we need, I think.”

“A month sounds perfect.”

“Alright, so rough time and location taken care of. Now onto the fun stuff, what should our colors be?”

With his head on George’s chest, Alexander could hear the pleasant rumble of his chuckles. It was nice.

“Colors? Really? We’re color coordinating this?”

“Why not? I’ll have you know I look particularly dashing in green.”

“I don’t doubt that in the slightest.”

Alexander didn’t say anything, and so they sat in a comfortable silence. There were a lot of things they could talk about the wedding, and part of him wanted to figure out the clothing situation first and foremost. He wanted to see George in a tux, and it was as simple as that. There were also the flowers to consider. The wedding couldn’t be too simple, but he didn’t want anything overly grand either.

“George, an overall vibe and look is of upmost importance. We must figure out a way to balance the sense of rusticness that having a wedding at a home provides, and the glam factor we must sprinkle throughout so that my preferences are also apparent.”

“Of course, sweetheart. The ‘vibe’ must be perfect, or else it won’t mean anything.”

“Hey! Besides, I don’t have a job, I get to spend my time flipping through magazines and reading articles online and planning this, and your input is important!”

“Well, as long as you’re having fun with it.”

George reached over for the remote, and then they were back to watching the news. Fortunately, this time it was simply discussing local gasoline usage statistics, and didn’t lead Alexander into another tirade of sorts.

A few moments later, George’s phone beeped with a text notification from Martha. Alexander was able to read the screen, and saw that it was actually a question meant for him. 

Martha wanted to take him out for coffee, in order to get to know him better.

That’s what she said, but Alexander knew that it was most likely just going to be an opportunity to question him on anything she deemed important, which he had feeling was going to mean everything.

“Tell her I’m free.”

“Are you sure? I could say you’re busy, or maybe ask to meet up for lunch - the three of us instead of just you two.”

“No, it’s going to happen eventually. We don’t want her to think we’re pushing it off or trying to hide something. Besides, I know she means a lot to you. I know I might not come across as the most enthusiastic, but I really do want her to like me - and not just for the point of trying to make her think I like you. I don’t think you’re half bad, really. I want her to know that. You’ve said before that you don’t plan on us leaving each other anytime soon, and we can’t expect her to just stay out of your life for the next however many years.”

“You’re not half-bad either.”

There was another press of lips to his hair, and George typed out a quick reply to Martha, saying that she’d need to pick him up, but Alexander was interested in getting coffee.

Their attention turned back to the news, and he squeezed George’s hand. 

The last few weeks had been a not unpleasant blur, and the first time he stepped into the house, he had hardly expected to find himself in this position so soon.

Alexander liked it, and he found comfort in George’s warmth. He found himself genuinely looking forward to the wedding, and wasn’t that a thought?


	6. Chapter 6

The day started off as it usually did, and after Alexander sent George off with a kiss on the cheek and lunch in hand, he started to pace.

He was getting coffee with Martha today. 

George said that if Martha liked him, she’d probably take him shopping, and gave Alexander his card, saying that he could get anything that caught his eye. That would no doubt become another test.

Where George’s car was expensive, but subtle, Martha’s was much more flashy. It suited her, in a way. It was white, and matched the dress she was wearing, and provided a gorgeous contrast to her dark skin. Martha was standing next to her car, and greeted Alexander with a smile when he walked out. She struck quite the image, and she knew it.

There was something dangerous in her smile, so very unlike what he had seen in the pictures George had shown him. Alexander wanted to see that welcoming light in her eyes that George had described, it would be wonderful having her on his side. But he knew that if she was determined to view him in a certain light, there was very little he could do. However, he was going to confuse her image of him as much as he could, until she started to see him as he truly was.

Martha opened her arms, and brought Alexander in for a hug. It was stiff, and Martha held her chin off of his shoulder, and her hands barely touching his back.

She had some sort of instrumental music playing softly. 

Martha broke the silence, “We’re going to this cute little coffee shop. It’s not too busy usually, and it’s all fair trade, organic, and vegan. I like it because they don’t give you to-go cups unless you ask, and the couches are comfortable. It’ll be a nice place for us to talk and get to know each other. Are you more of a coffee or tea person?”

“That sounds great, and I never really got the taste for tea.” 

“You can stick with coffee today, but I’ll help you with that. Do you prefer spicy or fruity flavors?”

“Definitely fruity.”

Martha’s smile was much more genuine this time, and Alexander grasped onto that victory. It was better to start of on as good of a foot as he was able before they got to the questions she actually wanted answers to.

They pulled up to the coffee place, and Alexander could only describe it as the type of place that exists in the dreams of suburban hipster teenagers.

Alexander ordered himself a large iced coconut milk latte, and sat down where Martha told him to. It seemed that she was a regular, judging by the friendly smiles and greetings exchanged by her and the baristas. He was just thankful she wasn’t one of those people that were rude to people in service jobs. 

The chairs Martha had chosen were right by the window, and Alexander could feel the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. It was nice. He sat there, sipping at his drink, and simply basking in the sunlight. He hadn’t had a real reason to lose his temper since arriving in the States, and he could feel it bubbling under his skin. But he couldn’t go on the defensive, he needed Martha to accept his presence, and he wanted George to know they got along.

It was weird wanting to do something for someone else. 

He opened his eyes to see Martha peering at him over her drink, some combination of tea and coffee Alexander didn’t understand, and he met her gaze.

“So, Alexander, I don’t think you’re stupid, though I’m willing to be proven wrong in that regard. I’m sure you know that I’m not happy with this.. arrangement… you have with George. He tried to tell me that this was an ongoing relationship, but I know that’s not true. What’s the truth?”

He set down his coffee before asking, “What exactly do you want to know?”

George and he had never quite ironed out the details of what they’d be telling everyone, which was a mistake, and now it was up to him to lay down the story, remember it, and make sure George memorized it. 

Martha just shook her head and smiled before saying, “Well, I would love to know everything. But first and foremost, I need to know why. Why George? What about him in-particular made you go after him? Sure, he’s not unattractive, and he’s got money, which I see as being particularly important for you, but what else? Besides the green card, of course?”

Alexander couldn’t help but bristle at the money comment, but he could see where she was coming from. She loved George, and wanted the best for him. Alexander just needed her to see that he wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Why George? I get why you’re suspicious, I really do. But, why not George? You’re right, he’s handsome, wealthy, and alone - he’d be the perfect catch for someone just trying to find themselves a sugar daddy and a way to a U.S. citizenship. You’re also right in that our relationship is new, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”

He wasn’t stopping now, and he wasn’t going to let Martha interrupt. The story would be fake, but he had grown to appreciate George in the time they’d spent together, he just needed to use that appreciation for the man in his defense.

“We only met once, when he was visiting the family I was living with after my mother died. We hit it off, in a weird way. It wasn’t love at first sight, or anything of that nature, but we were with each other constantly while he was there. I liked him, and I like to think he liked me. He left, and I didn’t think of him again, really. Scholarships aren’t the same, you know, when you’re applying from out of the country. They like to charge full tuition plus some change in return for your adding to their diversity statistics.”

Alexander took a deep breath.

“I answered the wrong phone by accident once, and it ended up being George. We chatted for a little bit, and after that we stayed in touch. I didn’t ask him to propose, but he did. He told me to come live with him in America, and next thing I know I’m filling out a visa and hopping on a plane. It wasn’t some multi-year love affair, simply two people who got along well. But you know what, in the time we’ve spent together, I’ve grown to respect him a lot. Hell, I already respected the man. But now that I’m living with him, and getting to know him - really know him - I’m finding myself falling in love with him, and that’s a great feeling. I’m sorry we don’t have the most traditional of relationships, but you’re going to have to deal with it until George decides I’m not making him happy anymore and ships me back to St. Croix, because I’m not leaving.”

Martha didn’t say a word, and Alexander leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. He could feel that his face was flushed, and he tried to blow the stray piece of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail to no avail. He thought he saw some sort of pride in her eyes, but he didn’t know if that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t know her well enough to know for sure.

“So, Alexander, you’re telling me that George Washington randomly called you up one day, and asked you to marry him? And not only did this coincidentally work perfectly into your plans of going to college in America, but that you actually think you’re making him happy?”

There was no story he could have told that she would have been happy with, and they both knew that. Alexander took a very long sip of his latte.

“That is exactly what I’m telling you.”

Martha nodded, and then something in her posture shifted. She seemed more comfortable, and less like a crouched lion waiting to pounce. 

The questions weren’t over, but it seemed she was choosing to act on the story Alexander had told her.

Everything was going fine until Martha casually asked him about their sex life.

“Alex, darling, I simply must know, George can be quite dominating in a business setting when he needs to be, how does that translate to the bedroom? It’s been so long since he’s been in a long term relationship, that I have never gotten my answer to that question.”

He almost choked.

And then his mind started to wander.

George hadn’t been anything but kind to him, but he had seen glimpses of the dominating aura when he got frustrated with something. Seeing that in a sexual setting would be, interesting. The gentle touches he had grown used to, combined with a demanding attitude, being switched between as punishment and reward. The strong hand that had rested on his thigh during dinner, instead leaving bruises on his hip, or instead yanking his hair back to get access to his neck. George’s voice was sort of grumbly when he first woke up, would it shift to a darker tone when he was aroused? 

He really wouldn’t mind finding out.

Alexander was taken from his thoughts by the sound of crystal clear laughter, and the snapping of fingers.

“That look on your face is answer enough, you don’t need to tell me anything. I’ll wait for details after the honeymoon.”

He smiled hesitantly in return, and finished up his latte. 

Alexander thought he had earned Martha’s approval, or at least enough of it for her to accept him in George’s life for the time being, and that was confirmed for him when instead of driving back home, they stopped in front of some shop he didn’t recognize. It looked expensive, and he could feel George’s card burning a hole into his wallet.

It was a lingerie shop.

Martha dragged him forward by the elbow and said, “Now, I know you didn’t seem particularly keen on sharing details, so I’m not sure if this is something that you and George have explored or not. If it is, go right ahead and start looking - I’m going to buy you a full set, as a gift for both yourself and George.”

“Since you didn’t say anything, I’m going to assume you haven’t. Now, this isn’t something he’s told me outright, but I do know that the one time I managed to get him drunk and take him to a strip club with male dancers, George was particularly interested in those wearing more, how should I phrase it, feminine apparel. George likes men in lingerie. And you, Alex, I’m sure would look just darling in some of these pieces.”

And with that, she set him free. 

There were so any things to look at and touch, and everything was pretty, delicate, and soft to the touch. Lingerie wasn’t exactly something he had considered before, but the more he looked through, he started to picture it. The silk stockings were so smooth, and the garter belts had little bows. The black lace of the panties would sure play quite a nice contrast to the untanned skin of his ass, from a purely aesthetic point of view of course.

He walked around the the store, running his fingers over everything. 

Martha found him as his fingers were playing with the lacing of a green and gold corset. 

“Ah, I see you’ve found something you like. I’m sure the green will bring out your eyes wonderfully.”

Alexander had been intrigued by the pattern of the lacing, but now that she was saying it, it really was his favorite shade of green - the exact picture he had in mind for the wedding, actually. Wouldn’t that be fun? Wearing this under a tailored tux? 

The lines might not work, but he could make them work. 

A trim waist certainly wasn’t something to complain about.

He had watched a documentary on the Victorian era one, and he distinctly remembered learning about how women would tie their corsets so tight in order to make their figures the perfect hourglass that they’d faint during meals.

It didn’t seem very comfortable, but the material really was quite smooth. 

He was slim to begin with, and George had large hands. 

You needed to be quite strong to properly tighten these things.

Next thing he knew he was sitting back in the car with Martha, the same classical music playing from before, with a bag at his feet. He was now the proud owner of a corset, panties, a garter belt, and two pairs of thigh highs. They were the most bizarre sign of approval he had ever encountered, and he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to explain it to George.

Martha would surely ask about it at some point.

The option of hiding them in his closet never to be seen by anyone but himself was taken away when he saw that George was already home. He had said something about having an early day, but that hadn’t quite occurred to Alexander as something to worry about when he set out that morning.

They walked in the door, and it was a nice feeling to come home. It was different when he came and left with George, but that feeling was there. It only magnified when George grabbed his shoulders and placed a kiss on his cheek before bringing him to his side and turning his attention to Martha. 

Martha simply smiled at them both, and aimed a wink in Alexander’s direction before saying she needed to go.

George didn’t step away or let go of him, even after Martha’s car had left their view. 

“So, what did you get?”

Alexander laughed, before reaching into his wallet and handing George his card.

“I ended up not needing this. Martha decided we deserved a gift for putting up with her rude behavior.”

“So you got her on your side? How did you manage that?”

“I told her that we met once when you visited the Stevens, and that we got along during your visit, and afterwards we stayed in touch until you asked me to marry you, much to my surprise. And then she asked some details about our sex life, and when I looked suitable dazed, she accepted that for an answer, and then took me to a lingerie shop.”

George looked surprise, but there was a certain spark in his eyes, and his toned seemed slightly choked when he said, “Lingerie?”

“Yep.”

Alexander would almost say that George was blushing as he not so subtly glanced between the bad and Alexander.

And then he got an idea.

It would be a test, of sorts - and if not a test, it could possibly work as a suggestion. 

“Actually, I kind of want to try it on.”

George definitely choked at that, and Alexander couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

“I’m going to need your help though.” 

George didn’t say anything, but he heard footsteps behind him on the stairs. 

George was unsurprisingly the perfect gentleman, waiting outside as Alexander tried to get the corset on for himself. It was fine to wear it with jeans, right? 

Taking off his shirt and wrapping the material around his torso only took a few moments, and it took even less time than that to realize that this is where George needed to come in and assist. He went outside, and besides the glint in George’s eyes growing darker, George showed no sign of any reaction when Alexander turned around to let him figure out the lacing. 

It wasn’t comfortable, but there was something nice about the constriction around his ribs, and the straightening of his spine. He could hear George’s breathes behind him, and when Alexander was directed to place his hands on the wall so George could get a good grip to fully tighten the laces, he shut his eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation.

It was certainly unique.

As was the expression on George’s face and awkward shuffle he did when Alexander turned around. He was left alone less than a moment later, and upon catching his reflection in the mirror, he couldn’t help but appreciate the unnatural angle of his waist.

And it looked like he’d have to get used to it rather quickly considering his fiance was nowhere to be found and there was no way he’d be able to get it off by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating, and if everything goes according to plan, it will change once again as the story continues ;;; )))
> 
> Also, I'm running a Hamilton Fic Exchange that you can sign up for by November 1st :-)  
> http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Hamilton_Gift_Exchange_2k16
> 
> Please feel free to come pester me on my tumblr at: kookookarli.tumblr.com or my twitter: @theunnamedgod
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the changed rating

Alexander ended up wearing the corset for several hours, as he didn’t see George until dinner. George had walked into the kitchen to find Alexander getting himself a glass of water, and had promptly become extremely flustered and had apologized for leaving him in such a state.

Alexander had changed back into his t-shirt, and the corset was never mentioned again, though it remained in the back of his mind. 

The next several weeks passed in a blur. George continued to work and live his life, and if his eyes spent more time on Alexander than anywhere else, it certainly wasn’t brought up in conversation.

Alexander had thrown himself into the wedding planning. It wasn’t going to be a large ceremony - only George’s friends and family, as he hadn’t made any of his own connections in the time he’d been there. It was going to be elegant, but simple, the colors emerald green, navy blue, and a pale gold. 

He didn’t like to spend too much time thinking about the guest list, and instead worried about the kind of flowers that would work with the theme.

If George was as stressed about their upcoming wedding as he was, he didn’t say a word. He offered a sort of silent comfort - doing as Alexander asked, and keeping his routine the same. Martha had also become a huge help, now that he had her approval. They went on weekly coffee dates, and she’d snoop and pry, and give him all sorts of suggestions for the ceremony and the dinner they had planned afterwards instead of a proper reception.

Tonight though, tonight marked two weeks exactly until the wedding. Two weeks until he’d be a citizen of the United States, and two weeks until he was officially and legally bound to George Washington.

He was flipping through another bridal magazine when he heard George walk up behind him. Alexander looked up just as George was leaning in to press a kiss to his hair, so it ended up landing on the bridge of his nose instead.

It was a terrible awkward position, and Alexander was sure he bumped his chin into George’s eye when he started to laugh. George joined in, and it was a beautiful moment.

After their laughter calmed down, they simply smiled at one another, and it took a large amount of restraint and careful consideration of their positions on Alexander’s part not to lean up and place a kiss on George’s lips.

Moments later, George was on the couch next to Alexander, having grabbed the magazine out of his hands and placed it on the coffee table. 

“We are going to watch a movie that has nothing to do with weddings, and we’re going to enjoy ourselves, and then we’re going to go to sleep, and feel much better in the morning.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, any preferences?”

“Not really, no.”

Alexander wasn’t planning on paying that much attention to the movie. He had the terrible habit of drifting off anytime George tried to get them to sit down and watch something in the evenings. Alex thought it had something to do with the comfort and safety that seemed to radiate from his fiance, because he’d wake up with George gently shaking him from where he was resting his head on George’s shoulder.

For now though, until he inevitably drifted off, he’d snuggle into George’s side, and try to focus on the movie instead of thinking up all the ways he could bring the heat back to George’s gaze.

He didn’t think it’d be exceptionally difficult. 

Perhaps a hand inching slowly up his thigh as the movie progressed, flutter his lashes, pout his lips, lean up and simply wait for George to act.

The move was about the revolutionary war, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to force himself to watch it. 

Alexander simply sighed, and shifted his weight, and could help but allow a slight feeling of satisfaction to overcome him as George’s hand feel from his shoulder to his hip, thumb softly stroking the denim of his jeans.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was waking up to the sound of George’s voice, and a black screen on the television.

“Alex, sweetheart, you fell asleep.”

Alexander nodded, and changed his mind just as he was about to move to stand. He had made this an easy process every night before. He’d stand up, yawn, stretch, kiss George on the cheek, wish him good night, and then walk alone to his bed. But tonight he was feeling particularly comfortable where he was, and it had been a long week. He was done walking for the day, and hadn’t George said he wanted to take care of him.

So Alexander kept his eyes closed and let out a groan, “Hmmm, that’s nice.”

“Are you going to get up?”

“No.” 

“Do you intend to stay here forever?”

“No.”

George chuckled deep in his chest, and over the past couple months, it had become one of Alexander’s favorite sounds.

“What do you intend to do about this then, sweetheart?”

“You should carry me.”

“Carry you?”

George had a small smile on his face, and when Alex wrapped his arms around his neck, George carefully stood up, and picked Alexander up bridal style. The walk up to his room was silent. There was something nice about being carried like this, and he allowed himself to enjoy it.

It was merely coincidence that Alexander forgot he had his closet open and his corset hanging in plain sight, but he was grateful for it because George’s quick look between him and the corset told him everything he needed to know.

Alexander didn’t remove his arms from around George’s neck when he was settled down on his bed, and instead pulled the man towards him, and leaned in for a kiss. George made a surprised sound, but there was almost no hesitation between their lips connecting and the kiss deepening,

It was an awkward angle, with George still standing and leaning over the bed, but that was quickly remedied when Alex tugged and George found his place resting between his legs. The weight and touch was exactly what Alexander had been longing.

One of George’s hands made its way into Alex’s hair, and the other went to his hip.

When they paused to breathe, Alex found himself smiling up at George. The smile was returned, and soon his fiance’s lips started to pepper kissed along his jawline, going down his throat. Alex could do nothing to stop the breaths and gasps escaping his mouth when George started to worry at a particular sensitive spot on his collarbone.

Judging by George’s own intake of breath and the hardness pressing against his thigh, he was just as invested in this as Alexander.

When Alex pressed his hips up, he was greeted with the most delicious sound, and he sound found George’s lips being pressed against his own once more. 

Alexander moved his hands from around George’s neck to the buttons on his shirt - his tie having been removed before he started cooking dinner. After George got the message, the buttons were undone, and his t-shirt lifted over his head, and Alexander was greeted with the very pleasing sight of George’s chiseled chest.

He wasn’t able to reach out and touch as he wanted to, as he found his own shirt being pulled at, and George pushing him into the mattress once more. 

George’s hand not curled in his hair was warm as it rubbed along his chest, brushing his nipples along the way. Alexander couldn’t help but push up into the touch. As good as it felt, Alexander wanted more. 

When George’s mouth started to make it’s way down his chest and stomach, until his hands were fiddling with the zipper of Alexander’s jeans, he was nearly begging.

George was a complete tease, and apparently had no problem taking his dear sweet time as Alexander nearly died from impatience. He was extremely pleased with the turn their night had taken, and though he had imagined themselves in reversed positions, he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

Alexander came with a shout, and George swallowed his release down.

After Alexander had a moment or two to recover, he pulled George forward, and connected their lips once more. With only a bit of prodding, George was on his back, with Alex grinding his hips on the man’s lap .

Alex slowly brought his hands down George’s chest as he scooted further down George’s thighs. 

“I want you to know that I have been wanting to do this for a very long while now.”

“And I want you to know that I’ve been wanting you to do this for a very long while now.”

Alex had pictured himself standing on his knees in front of George after a long day of work, and taking his dear, sweet time nuzzling into the fabric of his pants, and worshiping what he was sure was going to be a beautiful cock. Now, he was impatient. He wanted to hear George fall apart, and he wanted to be the cause.

He had all the time in world for everything else he had planned. 

The zipped and fabric was shoved down, and George’s hand returned to his hair when Alex took the head into his mouth. When George let out an encouraging sound, Alex took in a deep breath through his nose, relaxed his throat, and started to take more into his mouth.

He wrapped his hand around what he couldn’t fit, and it didn’t take very long after Alex started bobbing his head that George’s hips started to move in tiny thrusts.

The rumbling sound Alexander loved so much was only amplified when he came, and Alex swallowed what he could, the rest leaking from the corners of his mouth.

Alexander couldn’t help but feel satisfied with himself, and the feeling only amplified after George went and grabbed a damp washcloth to clean themselves off with, and then pulled him down to his chest before shutting his eyes.

Alex liked sleeping tucked into George’s side. As comfortable as it was on the coach when fully clothed, it was ten times more so when nude and in bed. Alexander hoped for nothing more in the moments before he fell asleep that this would become a wonderful habit.

They woke up at a no-doubt ridiculous hour to the sun shining in their eyes, as Alex hadn’t had the chance to close the curtains. It’s not that bad when he realizes his pillow is actually a person, and he looks up to find George smiling at him.

The couple stayed in bed for what could have been hours, not sleeping, not talking, simply resting their eyes and enjoying the peace and quiet.

Alexander later found himself in his usual spot at the breakfast bar, cup of coffee in hand, and George made some sort of healthy breakfast that would no doubt end up being absolutely delicious. The sight was extra special today, as George has chosen to remain shirtless.

The first kiss they shared that day was a chaste one as George handed him his plate, and it was perfect.

Everything about the morning was perfect.

So of course it was not meant to last. They had both forgotten that Gilbert and Adrienne had planned to come over for brunch that morning.

Any excuses they might have used died on their lips when Gilbert saw Alex’s ruffled hair and George’s bare chest, for the man simply kissed them both on the cheek and said that he had forgotten the champagne, before throwing a ridiculous amount of winks over his shoulder as he walked out, Adrienne right beside him.

By the time the Lafayettes returned, George and Alex were much more presentable, and the four treated themselves to strawberry crepes, fresh fruit, and the champagne Gilbert had so thoughtfully provided.

After stepping away from the wedding planning for even the short time that he did, Alexander was able to answer all of Adrienne’s questions about his plans for the ceremony. 

It had taken a truly ridiculous amount of convincing and promised favors on Alex’s part for Adrienne to agree that it didn’t make much sense to have half of the guests attending the ceremony be in the wedding party. They weren’t having any groomsmen, and that was that.

He would be looking forward to his several lunch dates and shopping trips with Adrienne, for she was one of the kindest women he’d met - with a bit of steel underneath her hard exterior he greatly admired.

Adrienne and Gilbert were one of the most well-matched couples he had the fortune of knowing, and it was the sort of relationship Alexander dreamed of having for himself. 

Looking at his hand intertwined with George’s resting on the table, he couldn’t help but think he might have a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sign-ups for the gift exchange are open until November 1st, 11:59 EST! :-)
> 
> Link to the exchange: http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Hamilton_Gift_Exchange_2k16


	8. Chapter 8

Today was the day Alexander had been looking forward to. 

After today, he’d no longer have to deal with the uncertainty of whether or not George would turn him away. He’d be his, and they’d make it work. He would have a secure place, and a secure future, in what had grown to be pleasant company, and a relationship Alexander expected to only grow stronger.

The chairs and everything was set up outside - in fact the window in his bedroom was staring out over it. Martha had brought someone in for him to decorate, and it was beautiful. The flowers were white, and accented with navy and gold ribbon, and were strung across the aisle and the pergola under which the couple would be saying their vows.

His tuxedo was hanging on his closet door, waiting for him to put it on.

Alexander heard a knock on the door, and when he opened it he found Martha in front of him, holding a bag with a familiar name across the side.

She smiled, stepping into his room, and said, “Alexander! Today’s the day! George is a nervous wreck, but Gilbert is with him right now, so he’ll be fine. I saw Adrienne fiddling with something outside, and I realized that there must not be anyone up here with you.”

Martha set the bag down on the floor, and hugged him close. In her heels his head just rested on her shoulder, and it was comforting. 

They stood there for a couple of minutes, Martha letting Alexander cling on to her. It was moments like these where he wished he was back home. He always missed his mother, but he knew deep in his heart that she’d want to be here for this. Martha wasn’t his mother, nor was she the most maternal figure. Martha was a friend, but Alexander allowed himself to project for little more than a second.

The moment ended, and Martha looked between him and the hanging tux, “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not dressed yet.”

Alexander raised his brows, “And here I thought you were going to yell at me for not being ready for my own wedding.”

She laughed, “Well, you would have had to take it off anyway.”

Martha handed him the bag, and looking inside, Alexander found a white garter, a pair of lace panties, and stockings.

“Now, I know you’re going to have to wear dark socks over these because of the tux, and I’m not trying to say you’re a bride or anything, because you’re very much a man, but also I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a little white on your wedding day. I don’t know a single woman who didn’t wear a white garter on her wedding day, and while that would ruin the line of your pants, I thought these would be fine.”

Alexander could feel the blush rising to his cheeks as he looked at the lingerie in the bag.

“You didn’t have to do this, Martha.”

She shook her head, “I know I didn’t, but I wanted to. I’m sure George spoils you rotten, and if he hasn’t, he will - but think of it as a wedding trousseau of sorts. You have to have some nice lingerie for your wedding night, Alex.”

His blush didn’t go away, so he stammered out a quick “thank you,” and took the garments out of their bag and hung them over the hanger the tux was still on.

Martha nodded, and looked him up and down. Alexander suddenly felt exposed in his t-shirt and sweats, but considering the woman had seen him try on lingerie, he had no reason to feel that way. 

She rested her hand on his shoulder and said, “Alex, I know that this entire thing is probably a bit weird for you. I don’t doubt that you love George, but people have doubts even when they’re marrying people they’ve known for a decade, so I’m sure you’re feeling a little conflicted right now. I want you to know that at any point if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be here for you. I’ve noticed how small you’ve kept this entire affair. Know that not only do you have my support, but you also have the Lafayette’s. We’re here for George, yes, but we’re also here for you.”

Martha placed a kiss on his cheek, and then left him in his room, alone with his clothing and his thoughts once more.

Alexander had been fine before. There was a lot he had experienced on his own where there should have been other people. It wasn’t always pleasant, but it was something he had gotten very good at. Martha had had only the best of intentions when she came up, but the short time she had filled with her presence had made the absence of everyone else in his life that much more palpable. 

But he did what he had always done and pushed those feelings down, and prepared himself for what was to come. In this case, it really wasn’t anything bad at all. It was his wedding, and it wasn’t the dreadful occasion he had been fearing a couple of months ago. He was excited, and dare he say it, happy to be marrying George Washington.

It wasn’t perfect, and he knew he didn’t know everything about the other man, but they’d be able to learn together. Alexander would no longer have to worry about things like his citizenship limiting his options in life, and George would no longer be lonely.

He wasn’t expected downstairs for another hour. He had an hour to mentally prepare himself, polish up his appearance, and actually get dressed. The tux looked black, but it was actually the darkest green Alexander had managed to find. It was a subtle difference, but one that looked very nice against his skin and brought out his eyes just so.

The preferred look for his hair on formal occasions had always been pulling his hair back, but George liked it down. He may not have said such a thing, but Alexander recognized the looks, and knew that George’s hand would often find its way running through the inky strands.

Twenty minutes passed by with Alexander running a brush through his hair, wishing he had the products and expertise to make it shiny and smooth like his mother had done as he watched her get ready when he was a child.

Another twenty minutes were spent with him staring at his reflection. It was remarkable how quickly time went by when one was lost in thought.

With his last twenty minutes, Alexander stripped himself of the clothes he was wearing, and put on Martha’s gifts and the tuxedo he was getting married in. The sparkling monstrosity on his finger catching his eye as he tied his shoes would soon be joined by a simple band of the same metal.

Soon he would be a married man.

Alexander had a single minute to spare when he finally made his way down the stairs and was greeted with Adrienne’s smiling face, “Alexander! I was getting worried you were overcome by nerves! Martha said you were fine, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.”

He accepted her hug, and followed her outside. 

“Now, I know that neither you or George are walking down the aisle, but when exactly are you two planning on going out?”

Alexander ran a nervous hand through his hair, “Well, I’m not quite sure. If everyone is out there, I imagine we should be doing that soon.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t be asking you these things! Today is your wedding day, you shouldn’t have to worry about this!”

He shook his head and said, “No, it’s fine - I understand. This ceremony is far from traditional.”

Adrienne pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly before relaxing and said, “Just because it’s small doesn’t mean the day is any less meaningful, Alexander.”

Alexander nodded, and continued to follow her as she made her way outside. 

Gilbert must have joined them at some point, as Alexander distinctly remembered the other man grabbed his hands and kissing both of his cheeks, but everything between that and him standing two feet away from George and staring into his eyes while a man spoke was a complete blur.

He obviously hadn’t messed up in any large way, as no one had said anything. Alexander had debated writing his own vows, but there was simply too much he had to say, and nothing he felt comfortable sharing with even their closest friends.

George looked absolutely magnificent in his dark navy, and his smile was the most beautiful thing Alexander had seen.

It was terribly distracting, to the point where he was almost caught off-guard when he heard George say “I do” and felt a kiss being placed upon his own lips.

He heard clapping, and had his eyes remained open, he would have seen several photographs being taken of that moment. 

It’s funny how these things worked out. Alexander could describe in perfect detail how every terrible thing in his life had happened, but this pure joy seemed to overwhelm reality, leaving only a happy cloud in its wake.

Alexander could accept that though, if it meant that he was being pressed against his husband’s side while they smiled for everyone.

He could almost pretend that they had met each other and fallen in love the way everyone else did. What would he have done if he saw George in a coffee shop? Would he still have called him a dork, or would he have thought him a handsome, but no-doubt boring suit? He might have passed over him completely, without giving him a single thought.

The what-if’s didn’t matter. George had married him as a favor, and they managed to find their own speck of happiness in the hand they’d been dealt by fate. Alexander simply pressed a kiss to George’s cheek and his his face against the other man’s shoulder while his family gathered around to get their first good look at the couple.

Alexander had brought in a chef and some staff to take care of the dinner, so they simply got to sit back and enjoy the company until dinner was served. It turns out that a wedding was the perfect excuse not to leave George’s side for any reason whatsoever. 

It didn’t take very long for Gilbert to get his hand on the two of them, “Ah, my Washingtons. You look so beautiful and happy and in-love. I could positively melt, I’m jealous.” He pulled Adrienne closer to his side and turned to her and asked, “My love, have we ever looked as perfect as they do right now?”

Adrienne shook her beautiful head, “No, my love, I do not believe we ever have.”

Dinner was delicious, though Alexander found himself too distracted by everything to properly enjoy the meal. George’s hand on his thigh remained a steady weight, but he was still floating. It was an entirely bizarre sensation, as if he was aware of what was happening to him in the vague sense, but not entirely present.

It wasn’t unpleasant, and so Alexander didn’t raise a fuss. He laughed with the others, posed for the photographer, and felt his cheeks ache with how often he had been smiling. Whenever he looked at George, he saw that the other man seemed to be facing a similar plight.

Even if the happiness they were feeling right now was only in their imaginations, and they were both projecting what they wanted onto reality, it was enough to fool themselves and everyone around them. Life was simply an illusion, and this one was too wonderful to give up.

People began to trickle out, as there was a certain awkwardness present in having a small wedding reception. There was no clear time to leave, and one couldn’t rely on the venue staff to usher everyone out. It wasn’t long before it was only the happily married couple and Martha, who had given them a wink before leaving.

The table was clean, as the staff had been tidying up while everyone mingled, so Alexander didn’t have a single worry for the fabric of his suit when he sat on it.

George stood in-between Alexander’s spread legs, and leaned down for a kiss that was readily returned.

“Alex, I do have to admit, that when I first saw you, I did not imagine our wedding happening quite like this.”

“However do you mean?”

His husband’s hands shifted to his hips, “Well, I allowed myself to fantasize that I might grow affectionate toward you, but reality is much better. I was terribly nervous this morning, as I’m sure Martha told you. And it wasn’t because I was worried I would be wasting my life, but rather that I wasn’t sure you weren’t wasting yours.”

Their eyes connected, and Alexander could see that the other man was completely serious. 

“George, I wasn’t ecstatic about the situation at first, and while we still don’t entirely know each other as husbands should, I see a future of happiness. But, Mr. Washington, I do believe that I’d rather focus on the now. After all, this is our wedding night.”

George closed the little space that was between them, and Alexander felt teeth biting at his lower lip and a hardness pressing into his stomach. He pushed his hips forward, and heard the other man groan. There was a hand in his hair, and another going around to the back of his pants.

Alexander pulled away, “As lovely as you look in this tuxedo, and I really do wish to see you in it again, I need you to take it off right now. Also, bed. Please.”

He expected George to step away and let him stand. He had hoped that the journey to the bedroom would be one full of more lips and hands on skin and a trail of clothing behind them. Instead, he found two hands under his ass and no choice but to wrap his legs around his husband’s waist as he was carried up the stairs.

Alexander was placed on the mattress, and treated with the sight of George quickly but carefully removing each layer of his tux until he stood bare. Perhaps he should have helped, but it was much more pleasing to watch. 

He started to work at his own clothing, first taking off his shoes, and it was the sight of the white stockings after he took off his socks that suddenly reminded him of what exactly he was wearing beneath his tux.

Alexander sat back and waited until he had George’s full attention, and the he slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing the top of the garter belt. 

George prided himself on being a man of restraint, but much stronger men had given in to much less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I wasn't able to post until - but it's here, and that's what matters, right? I hope you liked the chapter! :-)
> 
> I'm doing Nanowrimi - a whamilton royalty AU - so I've been busy with both that and real life (who would have thought? lol) Add me on nano - I'm kookookarli :-)
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	9. Chapter 9

Alexander woke up the next morning feeling sore and well-used, with the strong arm thrown over his waist. He could feel George’s breaths against the back of his neck, and he sighed and pushed his hips back. George drew him in closer, but did not wake.

There were bruises on his hips and along his collarbone, and Alexander was sure his hair would take a good twenty minutes to brush out. He closed his eyes and let himself take comfort in the warmth George provided, and drifted off again.

He was woken some time later by kisses along his shoulders and George whispering, “Our flight leaves at about two, sweetheart. Martha said she packed bags for us, but even so we still need to leave soon to get to the airport on time.”

“Flight?” Alexander turned to face George, “What are you talking about?”

George smiled, “Our honeymoon, of course.”

Alexander pressed a kiss to George’s chin, “What do you mean, honeymoon?”

George chuckled, “I’m sure you know what a honeymoon is, sweetheart.”

“I just didn’t realize we were going on one, husband mine,” Alexander pushed his hips forward, “I thought we’d get on just fine right here.”

George’s hand shifted down to his hip, holding him in place, “Stop that, there will be time for that later.”

“Where are we going?”

George kissed Alex’s cheek, “We’re staying in the country, for obvious reasons, but we’re still chasing that vacation feel. We’re going to Florida - I have a house on Captiva.”

“That sounds fancy,” Alex rolled onto his back, “fine, I guess we have to go.”

“Don’t sound so put out sweetheart.”

Alex sighed, “I was planning on sucking your dick this morning, but nope, you had to ruin those plans.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” George said.

Alex stuck out his tongue, “Nope, now you gotta wait until we get to your fancy house on Captiva.”

“You’re terrible.”

Alex sat up, “You married me.”

“I suppose I did,” George sat up and stretched, “now, Martha said she laid out outfits for us.”

Alex stared as George got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, taking in his strong back, “Did you make Martha get our stuff ready for us like we’re children?”

George laughed, “No, she said she didn’t believe we’d be able to summon the attention to do it ourselves.”

“That’s fair,” Alex walked up behind George and pressed his cheek between George’s shoulders, “would you like to join me in the shower?”

“I’d love to, but that’ll just end up wasting time.”

Alexander poked George in the side, “you’re no fun.”

“I’m realistic.”

Within an hour George was loading their bags into the back of his car, and they were making their way back to the airport that had been Alexander’s first sight in America. George’s hand rested on his thigh, and Alexander let himself entwine their fingers together. They still had a long way to go, and their relationship was still young, but it was easy to lose himself in the pleasantness.

The flight to Ft. Lauderdale wasn’t long, and it was first class, which can soften the blow of even the longest of flights.

It wasn’t a long drive from the airport, but after getting their rental car and going to dinner, it was dark by the time they got to the house. Alexander couldn’t get a good look at the house, but the gate told him it was just as grand as their home in Virginia.

George grabbed their bags, and set them down in the foyer. The house had been aired out before they got there, and the ocean breeze coming in through the open windows reminded Alexander of his few happy memories as a child.

Alexander turned around and pressed George against the door, trailing a finger down his chest, “There are a lot of cheesy things going through my mind right now, and I’m offended you didn’t carry me over the threshold, but,”

George smiled down at him, “But?”

“That can all wait until later,” Alex went to his knees, “because for now I have a plan to carry through.”

George nodded as Alexander pulled down the zipper and said, “As unopposed as I am to this, because trust me, I love your mouth, what if I were to tell you I had my own plans for the night?”

Alex smirked, “This is only round one, old man, besides, we have an entire week.”

“Who’re you calling old?”

Alexander leaned forward and nuzzled George’s crotch, “My husband, and as your pretty young thing, I have the right to do that.”

“Is that so?” George gasped when Alexander mouthed along the side of his still clothed cock, “When did I tell you that?”

Alex shoved down his boxers, “You didn’t.”

A low moan left George’s throat when Alexander swallowed him down, wrapping a hand around the base. Alexander licked a stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock, and said, “you like me like this, don’t you?”

George nodded slowly, and gasped when Alexander swallowed him down again, “you know I do.”

Alex hummed around the cock in his mouth and hollowed his cheeks, and bobbed his head, pulling off to lick at the precum beading at the slit. Alexander open his mouth wide and started to jerk his hand up and down George’s length. It didn’t take long at all before George gasped out, “Sweatheart, I’m gonna-”

He swallowed it down and licked his lips, and smiled up at George, “So now that that’s out of the way.”

George leaned his head back against the door, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

The house was beautiful. The kitchen was near what they had in Virginia, and the entire house was decorated as if straight from a magazine. Alexander knew enough to know that George hadn’t had a hand in it, and when he asked the man, George raised a hand to the back of his neck and said, “Martha comes here sometimes - she was looking into building one of her own down here, but I insisted she might as well just use this one when she wanted since I’m never down here. She’s the one that redid it - made it more modern.”

George brought their bags to the bedroom, and Alexander waggled his brows at George before he caught sight of the water out the window, “We’re on the ocean, right?”

“Yeah,” George nodded, “there’s a small beach. It’s nothing too grand on this side - we have the land across the street too, and that’s better for actual beach days.”

Alexander bent down and untied his shoes, kicking them off as soon as the laces were loose enough, “but there’s sand right here, right? Like, it’s not a drop off, there’s actual sand?”

George nodded, “about a foot or two of it, like I said, it’s not much.”

Alexander looked up at grinned, “that’s perfect.”

He lifted his shirt above his head and threw it in George’s direction as he made his way down the hallway and out the french doors leading out to the back he had seen earlier. Alexander heard George behind him, “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

Alex just chuckled, and unzipped and pushed down his pants, leaving them on the short boardwalk. 

He let out a quiet sight when his feet hit the sand, and he took in a deep breath as he walked the couple of steps to the water. A shiver ran up his body when the cold water ran over his feet, but Alexander smiled. 

He had missed this. The sand beneath his toes, the water lapping against his ankles, and the ocean breeze blowing through his hair. He hadn’t always been happy on St. Croix, but there was something about being on the water that couldn’t be replaced. Alexander supposed he would always long for the ocean, with it’s strength and peace and horror and happiness.

The wind in his ears drowned out the sound of George’s footsteps, but he felt the hand resting on his shoulder and looked up, “Hello.”

George looked at him for a moment and said, “Hello, Alexander.”

Alex looked back out ahead, “This is nice.”

“You grew up on the ocean,” George whispered, “I’ve always read things about how the ocean never leaves you, and how salt water is always the cure and all other poetics, but it’s been such a short time and you already seem so much more relaxed. I think I might believe it now.”

Alex nodded, “There’s something about it.” He took in a deep breath, “I’ve always seen myself in the ocean. My mom used to tell me that it was because the ocean was within me, and of course I’d see myself in it. The ocean is unforgiving, and it takes and it takes, but it’s a constant. I used to get made fun of for having such lofty dreams and ambitions, but I think about how small I am in comparison to all of this, and it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

The grip on his shoulder tightened, “This is a new side of you, I think.”

Alex grinned, “Maybe you’re just getting to know me. After all, it’s done now? Isn’t it? We’re married, and I’m here, with you.”

George stepped closer to him, and wrapped an arm around his waist, “We can come back here, you know. As often as you’d like, if you want.”

He rested a hand on George’s, “I’d like that.”

They stood like that for what might have been hours, still, basking in each other and the air. Captiva was far enough away that they could see the stars, and Alex felt something melt within him at the sight, “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

George pressed a kiss to his neck and stepped away, offering Alex his hand. 

Alexander rinsed his feet off in the tub, and through his boxers to the side. The master bedroom was huge, and beautiful - inspiration taken from the location, with french doors leading onto a balcony. He opened them and stepped outside, curtains blowing behind him. 

He was soon joined by a chuckling George, “You know, this is oddly fantasy like for me right now.”

Alex smiled, “Good. Now, I’m tired. I’m afraid your plans are going to have to wait until tomorrow.” He turned around and wrapped his arms around George’s middle, “Can we sleep with the windows and doors open, please?”

“I wouldn’t normally,” George leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of Alex’s nose, “but for you, I will.” Alexander’s answering smile told him he had made the right decision.

By the time George made it to bed after showering, Alexander was sound asleep, the sound of his breathing offering a quiet accompaniment to the distant sound of crashing waves.

Alexander was still asleep when George woke up. The sun was streaming in through the windows, glinting off the ring Alexander had fallen asleep wearing. His face was relaxed, with a small puddle of drool on the pillow. George smiled to himself as he pushed a curl of hair behind Alex’s ear. 

He pressed a kiss to Alexander’s cheek and got out of bed, going about his morning routine, and heading downstairs to start coffee and breakfast. 

Alexander padded into the kitchen without a snitch of clothing on his body, but hair pulled back into a bun and a smile on his face. George handed him a cup of coffee and asked, “Why aren’t you wearing clothing?”

“I haven’t opened my bag yet, and I’m sure anything Martha packed for me is much too complicated for this time of day.” Alex leaned forward, “Besides, we have those plans of yours.”

“Is that so?”

Alex nodded, “Yep, this is our honeymoon after all. I’m your kept boy, I gotta earn my keep, don’t I?”

George frowned, “You know it’s not like that, sweetheart, right?”

Alex pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I know, but I want to, and it’s fun to play into that fantasy of yours.”

“You’re ridiculous.” George turned around and grabbed the plate of fruit he had finished cutting up, “but since you insist,” he placed the plate on the counter next to Alex, “you’re going to need your energy.”

An hour later had George sittin in the middle of the white sofa with Alexander writhing in his lap, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing the revealed skin. George’s hands were on Alex’s hips, “Sweetheart, you’re so good to me.”

Alex bit down on his collarbone, “Hmm, you have lube down here, right? Because I’d really like to ride you.”

George gasped out, “It’s upstairs.”

“Inconvenient,” Alex sighed, “carry me then, husband mine.”

Afterward, when they were basking in the afterglow, George turned to look at Alexander, “are you actually planning on ever opening your suitcase? If you’re planning on walking about like this all the time, I promise you we won’t ever leave this house.”

Alexander laughed, “Well, we’re going to go down to the water again, and I don’t imagine you’d like me walking around naked outside very much.”

George closed his eyes, the picture of Alex standing in the ocean as he had the night before wearing nothing but his wedding ring filling his mind. He shook his head, “the beach isn’t private enough.”

“But you’d let me otherwise?” Alexander raised a brow.

George shrugged, “It’s your decision, and I’m never one to oppose the view.”

“Dirty old man,” Alex slapped a hand against his shoulder, “do you want to fuck me in a corset? Martha probably packed me one.”

“Sweetheart,” George groaned, “I’m a very patient man, but this is pushing it.”

Alex rolled on top of him, kissed him once, and then rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a crash, “I’m going to go take a bath, feel free to join me if you’d like.”

George through his arm over his eyes and mentally thanked and cursed Stevens for bringing Alexander into his life.

Captiva was a small island, and for the most part, they kept to themselves. They went out for groceries and a couple of meals when they didn’t feel like cooking, but most of their time was spent in the sort of domestic honeymoon bliss George had never imagined experiencing.

Alexander had unzipped his bag with great ceremony their second full day, holding a white corset into the air with a shout of triumph, “Look! I was right! Martha knows us so well.”

George didn’t know if seeing Alex wearing nothing or wearing the corset while standing on the balcony with wind blowing through his hair was worse. Either way, they both lead to the same place.

He didn’t think he’d ever tired of Alexander’s touch, and in the morning when Alex went outside to stand with his feet in the water, George would sip his coffee and wonder just how long Alex planned on staying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back! Sorry about the small hiatus - I got caught up in NaNoWriMo, 25 Days of Christmas, and Kinkcember, and this kind of got shoved to the side. Um, all I can say is bow howdy has my writing changed in that short period of time. I kind of just want to go back and rewrite this and add A Lot more, but I think I'm just going to let it be and finish it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have this outlined, and am planning on posting once a week on Fridays.
> 
> Please feel free to come pester me at my tumblr: ashilrak
> 
> I'd love to know what you think - all questions, comments, and criticisms are welcome! :-)
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


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